I Walk This Lonely Road
by Cassed out of Heaven
Summary: Coda fic for 9x03. When Cas get's kicked out of the bunker, he has to make a lot of life decisions really fast. Knowing that the smallest one could change everything about him or even kill him- Castiel must decide who he is, and who he wants to be. Destiel
1. Verdict

**Hey! It's been a really long time and I apologize. I've had zero inspiration and school got in the way and I've just felt like crap. I tried to update the chapter of my other fic, but I just couldn't get it out. Instead of quiting on the idea to write, I decided to just open this new coda fic for ep 9X03. It'll be shortish, but will hopefully get me back into writing. Cheers!**

**Unbeta-d**

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**Verdict  
**

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I walk a lonely road  
The only one that I have ever known  
Don't know where it goes  
But it's home to me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street  
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams  
Where the city sleeps  
And I'm the only one and I walk alone

* * *

"You can't stay here."

Four words. In all his millennia of existence, Cas knew of few other instances in history that have had such impact. He witnessed the caveman discover fire, rudimentarily spreading the knowledge among themselves; almost literally lighting the fire under human ingenuity. He witnessed Julius Caesar conquer thousands, Mohammad unite the Bedouins and Sassanid and Byzantines under a single black flag. He saw Paul of Taurus spread an idea throughout the developing world and Galileo discover the universe. He witnessed Martin Luther King bring about a revolution with simply, "I have a dream." He heard Armstrong when he took those first few steps on Earth's moon, and Charles Darwin discover the finches. He witnessed Hitler dropping out of art school and Confucius' teachings. He himself was present when Babylon was built, and even helped in the formation of the Great Wall.

But never- in all his memory, had he felt the stab in his gut so keenly as he did when those four words were spoken. Even April, when she forced his own blade through his stomach, had caused as much agony. Her cut was clean and sharp. Painful- but fast and short lived. It hadn't twisted and ripped around the tissue muscle and sinew that made up his heart. With April it hadn't gone on longer than ten seconds, allowing for a blissful absence of pain. This- this didn't end. It went on and on, never easing in its' attack. No forgiving darkness was waiting to pull him away- no space for escape.

Throughout it all, Dean just stared at him. It he tried- Cas could almost see regret and sorrow in his eyes. But that doesn't make any sense. Dean's the one kicking him out; if he wanted him to stay then this wouldn't be happening. The errant thought of 'why' bubbled up in his head. '_Did I say something wrong? Did I do anything out of place?_' The specifics didn't matter. Not really.

The more he thought about it, the more it started to make sense. It was blatantly obvious- he almost was ashamed that he had ever thought otherwise. He was human now- useless. He barely knows how to feed himself, let alone be of any help on a hunt. It's not like they have the capacity to babysit him. There's only so long he could say he's learning – that he's trying. What's that Dean had said? _'Baby in a trench coat? Only babies whine?'_ Excuses were just that- and unless he became useful, of course they couldn't afford to have him around. He himself advocated for the severance of liabilities. Kind of an ironic shock to become one, though.

At the same time- a small selfish part of him, a little voice in the back of his head was disappointed. After all the years they'd known each other, after all he'd given up and sacrificed, he'd have though that he would have been allowed a little more time before being sent out and on his way. Sure he messed up, sure this was all his fault – but didn't they make mistakes as well? Grave ones? Phrases like _'I'd do anything for family'_, _'I'd rather have you, cured or not'_ and _'Cas, it's me. We're family. We need you. I need you.'_ Rolled from ear to ear – floating in front of his face. If he really was family, didn't that make this his home to?

When these thoughts caught up with him, he was ashamed. Dean was only doing what he had to do- what made sense. The right thing- really. Thousands of angels were on the ground- thirsty for blood. His. All he would bring is more unnecessary complications for the two brothers.

Normally, when he was thinking, barely a second would have passed around him. Now though – his brain seemed slower; loosing its sharp decisive edge. It pained him slightly; the realization that the one thing that he thought remained untouched and his own was also compromised. He briefly wondered if that to, would be lost to him. If one day he would wake up and have forgotten all the lost civilizations, forgotten dialects, and erased history. Cas forcefully pushed the thoughts back. It wouldn't do any good to think about that now. Instead, he focused on the man in front of him. Dean was no longer looking at him, having turned away and was staring hard at his arm.

Voice thick, Cas forced the words out from around the blockage in his throat.

"Okay."

Dean's eyes flashed back to him- shock out and surprised anger showing in his eyes. Cas felt something swell in his chest. What did Dean want him to do, beg and plead just to be thrown out anyway? Dean may think that he's ignorant, but he could tell when something was hopeless and when he wasn't wanted. He could also tell when he wasn't needed. And his presence here- wasn't.

"I'll- go grab my stuff."

On immobile shaky legs, Cas pushed up from the chair and headed for what he had foolishly believed was his room. Shame burned through him and forced his head down. On his way he concentrated on breathing, trying to make it around the burn in his chest. He focused on the paradox that was his legs_. 'How could they be stiff and solid? Yet shaky and close to collapse? They almost feel liquefied- but also like two pillars. Was this natural? Did humans deal with this all the time? Or is it just another thing that sets me apart? Maybe if I breath in a different way…'_ These thoughts kept him going until he rounded the hallway to his room. He vaguely heard Dean shout his name- the syllable laced with frustration.

Cas had every intention of slipping into his room and closing the door before having to face Dean again. His head was roiling, skewing his vision. A pressure was building up behind his eyes- and the last thing he wanted to do was have to turn around and he looked at Dean. He saw the door and was almost inside, relief coursing through his veins. When he felt a heavy hand on his arm he tried to pull away, desperation seizing at his throat.

"Hey! Cas come on!"

"I'm allowed to grab my stuff before I go, right?" Cas rushed out. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing over anything that he could just fly out of this room. But then again, if he could do that, he wouldn't be having to hear this conversation in the first place. Couldn't he just have a minute to himself?

"What?! Cas no! You don't have to run out this minute! Let me just, look. I'm gonna set you up with Garth. He's a weird little guy, but I mean, you are to, so I'm sure you guys will get along fine. I have a couple of fake ID's and some cash you can grab. And then we're gonna need to gather some clothes and food… you can stay the night, Cas. We're not gonna throw you out on the streets, man. We're family.

Cas didn't know whether to cry or scream at his last statement. Instead, he did neither, and said the only thing he could think of.

"Thank you, Dean."

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**So viola! Chapter 1! Please let me know what you think!**

**Read x Review .**

**~Magnolia**


	2. Parting Ways

**This is turning out to be longer then I thought. Lord knows I'll never be able to write a one shot...**

**Un-betad**

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**Parting Ways**

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As he goes left and you stay right  
Between the lines of fear and blame  
And you begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend  
Somewhere along in the bitterness  
And I would have stayed up with you all night  
Had I known how to save a life

* * *

The sign above the terminal said the bus was delayed. Castiel didn't know whether or not that was a good thing. on one hand, Dean was able to go on about some of the 'joys of humanity'. After discovering how amazing showers and food could be, Cas would have been ecstatic to find out what else was great about humanity- but now he couldn't really find the joy in anything. He guessed that was what happened when a life changing event happened in tandem with another event, like when people start associating a coffee shop with cozy warm memories from a certain point in your life, or when you look at baby clothes. The only difference for him, you could say, was that the association wasn't quite as pleasant. On the other hand, every breath he took felt like his throat was about to tear and collapse in on itself.

Sam had decided to stay back, stonily avoiding Dean after he told him that Cas had to leave. When he stepped out the front door of the bunker for the last time, Sam pulled him into a big hug and looked at his with wide sad eyes. It made him feel a bit better to know that someone would miss him. The better part of him knew that logic was flawed and pointless, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. With that being said, though, he was glad Sam had opted not to come. This farewell was awkward enough.

Dean was sitting stiffly on one of the plastic benches in front of the bus stop. The sky was heavy and grey. Cas really hoped it didn't rain- he didn't have any clothes to spare if it did. Dean was saying something about how Garth would have him all set when he got to the ship; all he had to do was hold out for three days and he'd be fine.

A lull in Dean's speech came about when a man came by and told him that the bus would be arriving in ten minutes. The harsh reality of his leaving rushed over him again. Everything he owned could fit in his hand. Everything else was given to him. His body, his clothes, his satchel filled with money clothes and food, and his plans. The only thing he truly owned was his angel blade, and even that had been given to him by his superiors when he was first inducted into the garrison.

Looking to his right, Cas took in Dean's profile. His posture was stiff, and he kept alternating between clenching his fists and erratically tapping his leg against the concrete. Cas regarded him with a heavy heart. There are not many people he could count as friends; people like Anael and Balthazar were more family and partners than anything else. Everyone else he knew were just garrison members- working together efficiently towards a cause. Dean and Sam were the first people he had ever been able to call his friends. He found it amusing somewhat, that he had in the last few years experienced and grown more than the past several millennia. He had gained much through his time on earth, and while there was much he would change about his experiences, he wouldn't dare change a thing if it meant never knowing the Winchester brothers.

"It's curious."

Dean's eyes snapped up to meet his. Cas wished he could tell what he was feeling. So much was blocked off to him. He was always able to see a human soul. Even when he didn't know why Dean was angry or frustrated or happy with him, he at least knew that. It had become second nature to him to be able to feel emotions, and now that he couldn't he felt far out of his depth.

"This will be the first time I've been able to say goodbye."

Dean didn't say anything, just continued to stare at him with muddled eyes.

"In all the time we've known each other, every time we separated it had either been out of control or we've parted on… well, unfriendly terms. This time we're actually able to say goodbye."

Dean's faced morphed into another mix of unreadable emotions. He was so complex, a man built of off a mix of emotions, feelings, choices and opinions. Nothing about him could be taken at face value. He fit into no box- no category could fully define the man in front of him. Only in the rarest of times was he predictable- and even in those instances how he reacted or dealt with the situation was different. It was that about him that Cas found himself drawn to. In every moment Dean hurt him, angered him, frustrated him, or worked against him; Cas found himself more and more drawn to him. He wanted, _needed_, to understand him. It was moments like this that Cas wanted to shake him or plead with him to tell his what he was feeling- what he was doing.

"Cas that's not. This isn't goodbye. This is just a pit stop, ya? Once we sort out this whole rogue reaper/angel mess we can all meet up and chug Viagra and braid hair. We can still keep in contact- my numbers programmed into your phone."

_That seems kind of cruel, don't you think Dean? I don't need to be granted this mercy_

Cas nodded his head in assent, not trusting himself to say anything.

"Good."

Dean nodded, looking back at the road in front of him. Before either of them new it the bus finally pulled up. A sense of finality washed over Cas- one that he hadn't felt in a long time, even before his fall. Resolutely, Cas got up and shouldered his bag.

Dean stood up with him, and together they walked to the bus. When they reached the door, Cas stepped on. Dean didn't.

"This isn't goodbye."

_Then what was it?_

"I'll see you later."

Dean's eyes were set- screaming the certainty of his statement. It was intimidating, and Cas could only stand to stare at the confident man before him for so long. He took a deep breath.

"I'll look forward to it."

Cas boarded the bus, to weak or strong to look back; he couldn't tell which, and picked a seat on the opposite side of the bus, farthest from the spot where Dean stood watching. He didn't want to see his face. When the bus pulled out, Cas kept his eyes firmly on his jeans and busied himself with pulling at the loose threads.

After a few hours, the bus pulled into another station. When he inquired as to which bus to board, the attendant informed him that he would need to board the red train at 4:30.

Cas thanked her and went to sit on a bench as the train wasn't scheduled to arrive for another half hour. While he waited for his train to arrive, another train pulled into the station- a green one. Before his mind could catch up with what he was doing- he got up and found the woman who had directed him before and demanded she tell him where the train was headed.

Looking mildly ruffled, the girl gathered herself and said, "It's, let me check. That's right, it's headed to Dallas."

"Thank you."

Cas whirled around and headed to the ticket stand, hearing blood pound in his ear. In ten minutes, he found himself with an exchanged ticked for the green train and twenty less dollars in his pocket.

He didn't mind.

Three minutes after he settled down in the back of the bus, it pulled out of the station, taking with it the option of turning back and heading to Garth's with it. It wouldn't have mattered anyway- his mind was set. Hours later, Cas fell asleep to the sound of the street around him. He found that he hated that sound. It was reminiscent of the past. With his life shortened to one barely a millisecond of the length it would have been, Cas refused to let himself live in the past. The present was all he had, and avoiding it would only make time past by even faster than it already was. He needed to live as much as he could now, and if that meant doing it alone- well then he guessed that was his penance. Life would carry on- and so would he. Alone.

* * *

The next day, the train pulled into the beginnings of a bright and sunny Dallas morning. Judging by the frankly garish plaque on the wall, Cas guessed he was in Texas. The first thing he did after stepping outside was to find a phone store. Two hours after finding a business, Cas walked out with a brand new flip phone. The first thing he did was program the few numbers from the phone Dean had given him into his new phone. He couldn't bear to part with them, even though he knew he would never use them.

After pocketing his phone, Cas flipped open the one Dean gave him and dialed one of the five programmed numbers on the phone.

"Garth- hello. You don't need to make arrangements for my stay anymore; Dean and I talked and decided that it would be better for me to stay. Apologies if you already went out of your way to accommodate me- it won't be necessary."

"No problem hermano! Glad you two idjits could sort it out. Keep in touch, won't ya?"

"Of course Garth- we'll 'keep in touch'."

Cas hung up and flipped the phone over. After extracting the memory and SD cards, Cas cracked and broke them apart; he then did the same with the body. When the entirety of the phone was reduced to a pile of shattered plastic and glass, Cas gathered up the shards and emptied them into the trash. Cas found himself with a bag of clothes, two days worth of food, a sawed-off gun, simple medical supplies, a fake identity, 480 dollars to his name, and an uncertain future. Cas headed to the nearest motel, intent on starting his life the next morning.

"_Goodbye, Dean."_

* * *

**So there you have it! Chapter 2 is officially a go.**

**The good news is, I'm really liking this story and I'm having a lot of free time in my classes today so there is a very high chance of me updating by next Friday night/Saturday morning.**

**In other news- I get to go to Six Flags tomorrow! Here's to not freezing/dying!**

**Read x Review**

**~Magnolia**


	3. Brick By Brick

**Ok! So the new ep left me a bit annoyed with just how willingly Cas worked with Dean again. I feel like he deserved an explanation or something before just...jumping back in, and I kind of feel like this incredible complex and intricate character has sort of turned into just a comic relief character...but maybe it's just me :/ Anyhoo- here is the new chapter!**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, you all make me super happy and stoked to keep writing!**

**Carrie- Thanks to your comment, I now have planned out the story to include several chapters of other character POV's, so thank you for that!**

**Tanya13- I /did/ have fun a six flags, thank you! Even went on the ever-terrifying superman ride for the first time. As that ride is a perfect compilation of everything I fear in life, I am quite proud :)**

**Currently non-betad- all mistakes are mine**

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**Brick By Brick**

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I was left to my own devices  
Many days fell away with nothing to show

Oh where do we begin?  
The rubble or our sins?  
Oh oh where do we begin?  
The rubble or our sins?

* * *

Castiel spent the first month of his new life flitting around, never staying longer than a few days in a certain area. He would take up odd jobs and sleep in shelters; not wanting to waste the money he had been given or risk using the credit card that could very well be tracked. Instead, he used his money sparingly- only using it for food and, on rare occasions, transportation. Slowly, he found himself back at his original $500, and every passing day the value increased, albeit slowly.

Right as he started getting used to an area, signs of angels popped up- forcing him to run out of the city. Everything he owned still fit in the single bag, and leaving was a simple matter of picking it up and running to the nearest bus station. He never slept those nights. Those nights, his blood would curl at any sound, his heart pound at the slightest movement or flicker of light. Slowly, after what felt like years, the sun would begin to peak over the horizon and the new day would arrive. Cas was exhausted, terrified, and drained; but on the first shuttle out of the city. He never bothered to ask where he was headed, anymore. It didn't matter.

Eventually, angels stopped showing up at his every turn. He would have been relieved that they had eventually lost his trail if the angels hadn't been replaced by reapers. Two of them jumped him at night, neither even bothering with deception. If it wasn't for his ingrained reflexes, he would have been dead.

As it was, he barely had enough energy to drag himself to the nearest hospital before he collapsed in a bloody heap. He didn't wake up until three days later with two broken ribs, a bruised lung, and a concussion. Cas ran out of the hospital before they could ask him questions. Or worse- try to charge him. The next month was hard, especially with the constant moving around. Every breath hurt his chest, but there was little he could do about it.

As soon as his ribs had healed enough for him to get around efficiently, Cas went to a tattoo parlor and updated his tattoo, adding four new lines of text to render him invisible to even reapers. Now, the only time they would be able to find him would be when his heart stopped beating.

Three months into his new life, Cas found himself in California; a thousand miles away from where his bus first landed, and on the opposite side of the country from the bunker. That fact registered with him one day while he was working in a park and it almost made him feel relieved. He tried not to think about why.

After living in a shelter for two weeks without either an angel or a reaper showing up within fifty miles of his location, Cas decided he could get a real job.

The good thing about working forty odd jobs was that Cas had developed a form of resume. He could do a little of everything, and was no longer an idiot when it came to all things human. The next morning, Cas showed up at the history museum- excited to finally work a real job. Shocked would be putting it lightly when Cas got kicked out of the museum within the first five minutes of entering the doors.

The two guards who manhandled him out of the museum pushed him out into the snow. "This is a reputable establishment, not a place for the homeless. If you need a heater, you can try Sister Ann's."

With that, Cas found the door unceremoniously closed in his face, and even more confused than before. Looking down at himself, Cas realized what the guards had seen. His shoes were worn in, so much so that he could see his toes through the holes in the front. His jeans were ripped up and filthy caked in mud and questionable stains. His hoodie, he could say, had definitely seen better days. He also realized that a heavy odor was hanging over him. When feeling his head, he found his hair to be matted down and gritty, and his stubble to have grown out into a thick coarse beard. All in all- he could say that he didn't look right for the job- or any job.

With that in mind Cas went to the nearest Wal-Mart. Two hours later and $120 less, he walked out with two new shirts, two pairs of pants, a packet of underwear, black shoes, soap, a jacket, and some sleeping attire. With his purchases, Cas went back to the shelter; talking care to hide his new items where they couldn't get stolen.

The next morning, Cas showered, taking care to make sure he was clean everywhere. After dressing in his new clothe one look in the mirror showered him to be back to how he once recognized himself, save for the almost shoulder length hair and beard he now sported. Not wanting to risk getting denied again, Cas went to a hair salon.

The woman who cut his hair was friendly, even if she did talk about her life and her frankly wild relationship with her ex-boyfriend a bit too much. Throughout most of the experience, Cas allowed himself to zone out and get lost in the feeling of her hands massaging into his skill. Eventually, they were replaced by a towel, and from there a pair of scissors. Before he knew it, she was turning his chair around to face the mirror.

Cas barely recognized himself. His hair was floppy, a little longer then it had been when he first inhabited Jimmy, but definitely shorter than it had been in the past three months. On top of that, his face was now smooth- for the first time completely clean of the perpetual stubble that he had gotten accustomed to having. He found himself looking years younger; full of energy and purpose.

He told the hairstylist so, and she laughed- a light, tinkling sound, and leaned down, looking at them both in a mirror,

"Never let anyone say you don't clean up well."

Smiling in return, Cas got up and thanked her. On his way out, he paid the receptionist, taking care to fill out the survey on a job well done, even if it took him an extra twenty minutes to do so.

* * *

Returning to the museum was almost comical. This time, the guards nodded to him and wished him a good day. They didn't even recognize him. He didn't hold it to them however, he didn't recognize himself either.

With a little bit of effort, Cas found the offices, and twenty minutes after that he was handed an application. Slightly altering the truth, he filled out the application and handed it back to the bored looking woman behind the desk. She gave it a cursory glance before her heavily made up eyes widened dramatically.

"If you'd just like to wait here, uh... Clarence Novak; I can have an interview set up right away."

After receiving a confirmation nod from 'Clarence', she turned around and got off her chair, rocking in her slightly shocking high heels. Castiel sat back down in his chair and waited for her return.

Twenty minutes later, the girl returned with a man who looked to be in his early 60's. Cas put down the magazine he was reading entitled, "Who's Hot, Who's Not: The Best and Worst of 2013", and got up to greet him.

"Hello, Mr. Novak. I read over your application and you seem more than qualified for this position. I noticed however, that no one is listed as a reference or a contact. Now normally, that would be a problem for our applicants- but if it turns out that we are sorely lacking in staff right now and if you are as knowledgeable as you seem- we could really use you as part of our team."  
An hour after Cas truly showed them just how much history he knew, he found himself with five company shirts, a walkie talkie, a name badge with a set of keys, and a few other job miscellaneous items.

"I really hope you will enjoy your occupation here. A man with your insight should be able to more than feel at home as part of our staff. And I can assure you, the work as well as the pay is more than rewarding."

"It's a privilege and reward on its own to be able to work with you."

After shaking hands, Cas left the museum- elated to start work the following Monday and not have to spend another week cleaning public bathrooms or lifting workplace machinery. This was something he knew he was good at, and he was excited to finally be able to show a degree of skill.

Unfortunately, after checking the newspaper, Cas found out it was Tuesday, meaning a full six more days before he could start working. And- due to his surplus of spending, he was once again running low on funds. Not being able to afford to go back to the way he looked a day ago, he realized that he was going to have to find a way to earn money in the meantime. Not knowing what else to do, Castiel walked into the nearest bar and asked for a job.

The bar was empty, as it was early in the morning. A woman much like Ellen greeted him behind the counter. When he asked about a possible job opening, the woman listed a bottle of clear alcohol from behind the counter and a round of shot glasses. After filling each one to the top, she slid them over the counter.

"If you're to work here, I have to be sure you can handle your alcohol. Can't have pretty boys like you getting drunk and stumbling around back here on duty."

Seven rounds of shots later, and she stood in an impressed silence and Cas glowed proudly- only slightly buzzed.

"Well, I guess that answers the question about you getting hammered. Your blood could turn to liquor before you got drunk- and we'd run out of hard stuff before you do."

Elated, Cas walked out of the bar set to work the night shift on Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday.

* * *

Two weeks after the first day- Cas actually found himself busy. He worked 9:30 to t throughout the week at the museum, and from 8 pm to 2 am at the bar four days a week. It was also then, that Nora, his manager, offered him a room.

"You've been working here for a little bit and you haven't tried to steal cash from the register or anything yet and I haven't heard you mention where you lived and well- my daughter Tanya left for college two years ago, so there's an empty room upstairs. If you wanted to, you could move in."

"Thank you Nora, but I honestly couldn't take advantage of your hospitality like that. It's more than enough that you offered me this job and I-"

"I insist. If you wanted, I could take it out of your pay, thought that's truly unnecessary."

Cas let out a hesitant smile, and nodded his head."

"I think I would like that."

* * *

Six months into his new life, Cas had a family. He made friends with Tyler and Alison at the museum as well as Nora, Tanya, and Bill from the bar. Around Christmas time, Tanya came back to visit with her new boyfriend Cody in toe. Upon seeing Cas, she grabbed him and forced him into a group picture. Cas smiled just as wide a cheesily as the others, and quickly became overcome with the Christmas spirit just as much as the others were.

On Christmas Eve, Nora asked him, or more informed him, that he would be joining them for Christmas dinner. Cas said yes. Turns out that being asked to dinner didn't just mean the actual dinner. It also included partaking in the Christmas music and festivities. Once they caught wind that he could play the piano, they all but forced him down onto the bench and demanded he play. His fingers effortlessly glided across the keys, and within minutes he was singing just as loudly as the rest of them.

Later that night, Cas- to his utter surprise, was gifted a knit sweater from Nora, a fishing rod from Bill, and picture frames filled with candid shots of them all throughout the night from Tanya. Cas didn't know what to say.

He carried them gently upstairs to his room and placed them on his bureau, directly next to the brand new laptop he received from the guys down at the museum.

That night he hung up the pictures on the previously barren walls. The sappy grins from all their faces in the pictures shown back at him, and seemed to radiate warmth into the room. Already, the chill of the winter air seemed not as consuming.

This was his family. He struggled, he fell; but he found it- all on his own. It's small- but definitely still good.

Yeah. Still good.

* * *

**So there it is! Hope you liked it!**

**Please Please Please review and tell me what you thought! Also- if there is anything you want to see, let me know! As I will most likely incorporate it in the story in one way or another. Let me know what you liked so I can keep doing it!**

**Finally, question of the day: What do you want to see happen to Cas?**

**Let me know!**

**~Magnolia**


	4. Better Days But Colder Weather

**Hey! Late update I know: I couldn't update last night as I was at an early thanksgiving party with my friends and didn't get back in time to type it up:/ **

**Thank you SO much for the feedback; you guys will never know how happy it makes me. Whenever I have a bad day I just read the and feel 3000X better :)**

**ALSO! I am SO excited to know that you guys share my frustration with Cas' arc- I seriously was starting to think I was the only one as all the other spin offs of this episode had Cas just crawl right back the second they asked him to so I assumed that's what everyone wanted. So glad that's not the case!**

**ebonypol: Omg you are to fucking sweet I got like 50000 cavitities from that review and I legit cried thank**

**Monisha: Ya, I thought that too as I wrote it but I didn't want him to be alone for the holidays so I did it anyway uwu**

**Casismyfavorite: I'll try my best to not let you down then ;)**

**With no further ado: the story!**

**non-betad: all mistakes are mine**

* * *

**Better Days But Colder Weather**

* * *

Strong enough to leave you

But weak enough to need you

Cared enough to let you walk away

I took that dirty jacket

And walked away

* * *

Cas greatly enjoyed his work at the museum. Originally, he worked in the backroom and walked around the museum – meant to just answer questions. Quickly, however, the curator gave him his own tours to lead. Soon after- he ran his own.

The tours were his favorite part of working at the museum. He led two to three a day and each time was like the first. Teaching was always something he enjoyed- in his early days of joining his garrison, before he was a soldier; he was chosen to teach other angels battle maneuvers. He taught classes for centuries – and his students went on to be some of the most revered soldiers of the time. He had been renowned for his teaching skills, known by many as The Second Inspired Word.

He would have continued as a teacher, had there not been a draft for one of the early uprisings of the Nights of Hell. He was one of many in the battalion, but he found it exhilarating to actually perform what he had only taught. During the war, which lasted only 200 years, Cas not only used his techniques, he made new ones – improved formations until they were state of the art.

After the war, he was offered to go back to his old job, but he refused. After experiencing what being on the front lines were like, Cas wouldn't – couldn't go back to his old job. Instead, he chose his prodigy, Samandriel, to take over for him. The kid had been smart, an apt learner, and he knew he could teach the classes well.

As for him, he enrolled in tactical school and from there became an official member of the garrison. It was the last time he taught – and he forgot how much he missed it until now.

Even if leading groups of people and retelling simplified versions of their own history wasn't quite the same as teaching the brightest minds of the ages, he still loved it. He loved the ones in front who were invested in every word he spoke, the ones in the middle who were interested but not _that_ interested and the ones in the back who wished they were anywhere but there. At the end of every work day – Cas would wash his coffee cup and put it back in the lounge right next to the wall towards the back, take off his badge and vest, and return to the bar.

He would then go and rest, attempting to recharge in time for his shift. It was habitual- it was time consuming- and it was perfect.

It was 2 am, and the bar was basically empty save for a few stragglers. Cas finished wiping down all the counter tops and surfaces 10 minutes ago, and was idly cleaning the machinery as he waited for Nora to kick out the last of the drunken crowd. She was sweet- charming when she wanted to be, but Cas had quickly learned not to do anything to get on her bad side.

Finding her guiding out the intoxicated customers, Cas took the trash bags and carried them out back to the dumpster. The air was freezing and he could see his breath frost in the air around him. Walking as fast as he could to the dumpster, he threw the bags into the bin and walked swiftly back to the door. The hairs on his arms stood up and even though the trip to the trashcan took less than 2 minutes, Cas wished he had remembered to bring jacket.

As he rounded the alley to the back, he stopped dead in his tracks. At the end of the road next to the wall, two of the men from earlier were throwing glass bottles at a screaming animal. They were clearly drunk and each noise the animal made sent them into peals of ugly laughter.

Cas stood frozen as the scene unfolded – and was only snapped back into action when one of them lurched forward and kicked the bundle of fur into the air; sailing back until it hit the wall with a sideways thud and fell to the floor.

Cas ran towards the two men and yanked him back. The force of his pull sent his stumbling back, hitting his head and one of the protruding rails just right, sending his crashing into an unconscious stupor. The other man was not so caught off guard and sent one of his fists sailing into Cas's face. The sting of the punch was off-kiltering and it took him several see straight again.

In the time that it took him to reorient himself, the drunkard had slugged him in the stomach over, twice, three times before Cas was able to grab his arm and swing him around into the wall. Much like his friend, the impact sent him straight to the ground, doing little more than groaning and rolling onto his stomach.

Cas wheezed and clutched his stomach feeling the burn and pounding off the hits already. Winded, Cas breathed thinly through his teeth as he headed over to the animal that the two had been abusing.

It slunk against the wall- barely recognizable as anything living. Upon closer inspection- Cas was surprised to find it was a cat. His fur was sludge grey and matted through with blood. Patches of his hair seemed to be missing or pulled out, and overall the animal barely looked to be holding it together.

Trying not to move too fast or to appear to be a threat, Cas walked towards it, holding out his hands to the side in a placating gesture. When he stood 5 feet in front of it, in exaggerated movements he crouched down and waited.

Slowly, time passed by and still the cat continued to only watch him warily. Cas' back started to cramp up and his legs were burning. His lungs hurt – and each breath at the icy air sent pins and needles screaming down his throat. Just as he was about to give up hope of the cat coming near him, the cat slowly stretched to creep towards him. Cas set his teeth - and waited.

10 minutes, or a year later, and the tattered animal was sniffing his hand. Slowly, ever so slowly, it turned its head into his palm. Taking that as the most open invitation he was going to get, Cas scooped the cat into his hand and brought it down to his chest.

Now directly in front of him, Cas saw that the cat was even worse off then he thought. Beneath all the blood, there looked to be a huge cut in its paws, and its right eye was swollen shut. Cas felt its stomach. His blood froze up when he felt how cold it was and how faint the heart beat.

Without a second more thought, Cas straightened up and all but ran down the street, ignoring the burst of cold as a bitter wind tore down the road. In seconds, he reached the door of the bar. Lifting up his shirt to hold the cat to his chest, he quickly ascended the stairs and flew into his room.

He closed the door tightly before turning around and gently holding the cat up into the light. No vet was open at this time, and there was no way Cas was going to let it out onto the street. Making up his mind- he brought the cat into the bathroom and filled up the sink. When the water was lukewarm, he gently placed the animal's legs deep in water and took up the soap.

He only got more and more worried when the cat didn't even react to the water and gently soaped up the cat and massaged the dirt and blood out of its fur. The cat purred and moved further into his hands.

Eventually he did all he could do and placed the cat into a towel. He walked over to the bed and taking his laptop with him, he sat on the bed. As he checked emails and read the news, he massaged warmth and life back into its scrawny body- trying to chase away the last of the cold and water. As time went on, the cat traded in shivering for purring, and lay down in the towel.

* * *

The next morning, Cas woke up to a face full of fur. The little creature had sat itself directly on his face. Cas reached up and carefully moved it to the side, and contemplated the little guy. It looked quite a ways better then the day before, but its eye was still inflamed and he didn't know if he would trust him to walk on his bad leg.

In effect, Cas got up, showered, and dressed- intent on taking that cat down to the vet before work. By the time he was ready, the cat was watching him from its place on the bed, not moving from its spot within the blankets. Not wanting to arrive later then he already knew he was- Cas walked over and scooped the cat up in his arms and walked out the door.

Nora was still asleep in her room, but Cas was careful to quickly exit the hall for fear of her seeing the little animal. He knew very well that she had a 'no animals allowed' rule which was largely influenced by her severe allergies. Just to be sure, Cas once again stuffed the cat under his jacket, not wanting to take any chances on his way out.

When he arrived at the vets, a kindly older lady treated the animal and have it several shots and antibiotics. She talked to him for several minutes, telling him how to go about the several days and what foods to feed it to help in its recovery.

"So!" she asked, smiling, "What's her name?"

"Her? It's a girl? I mean ah- of course. Her name is… Ghost?" Cas fidgeted, hoping his obvious lack of knowledge wasn't picked up. Instead of calling him out on not actually owning a pet- she smiled and looked at the animal.

"Well, I can't say that name doesn't fit. Where did you find such a beautiful animal?"

He had to agree with her on that. The cat that had once been grey and bedraggled was beautiful. Her hair was shockingly pure white, and its eyes were two sapphires. Nothing about it said stray, and it was an honest work of art.

"You could say she just fell into my path."

* * *

Later, after paying the ridiculously expensive bill, Cas left with Ghost in his arms, intent on getting insurance as soon as possible. Over the course of the next two weeks, Cas set up a small little section in the corner of his room where he kept the cat. He made sure to do his own laundry and never left his door open for fear of her running away and into trouble. All day at work at the museum and bar he feared that something would happen that would cause Ghost to be discovered and him have to leave her, and every day after work he would spend time playing with her in his room; no matter how tired he was.

Ghost fit seamlessly into his daily life- and eventually he started thinking of her more like a friend then an animal. She was so intelligent, and looked at him when he talked to her like she understood what he was saying, sometimes he swore she did.

In the beginning, he set up an area for her to sleep on the floor, but after waking up to Ghost being curled up either on his pillow or his chest, Cas gave up trying to make her sleep anywhere else. If he was being honest, which he usually was with her, he greatly enjoyed the company.

She was perfect, and was one of the best friends he could have asked for.

* * *

**Ok- shorter chapter; but this week has been INSANE. I had 3 tests alone and of them consisted World Geography, Calc, and Chemisty and needless to say I am so tired I can't even function.**

**This isn't my favorite writing by far, and I apologize, but I promise the next chapter will be far better.**

**ALSO! Never fear! Sam and Dean WILL be back shortly, just need to have a bit more scene setting done!**

**I've got the next two chapters planned out with help of your wonderful suggestions, so I'm DYING to see what you guys think :)**

**And- (goodness these notes are getting long) Because I am now on thanksgiving break I plan to write several chapters ahead of time to make sure I can get them out on schedule! Yay for planning ahead!**

**Did anyone get the reference with the cat and who's it is? I hope so!**

**Question of the Day! Who owns the cat and if Cas were to have a favorite part of a house (i.e. bed, table, bookshelf, bathroom...) what would it be and why? (totally not asking for a specific reason or anything. Pshaww)**

**Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought!**

**~Magnolia**


	5. Bumps in the Road

**Happy Black Friday everyone! Hope none of you guys die today! That would be awefully terrible.**

**I am saddened that none of y'all caught who Ghost was- oh well, I shall tell you.**

**Ghost is the cat that Osric went crazy over on his instagram. Stanley is Osric's friend who found Ghost broken and bloody and messed up in a parking garage and decided to keep her. Of course, this cat turned out to be the prettiest and most gorgeous cat in the world and y'all need to look at her Jesus Christ she is pretty but ya, that is who I stole Ghost from :) (Go to Osric Chau's instagram to see all the pics he posted of her.)**

**Casismyfavorite: glad you approve once again :)**

**non-betad; all mistakes are mine**

* * *

**Bumps in the Road**

* * *

I can hold my breath  
I can bite my tongue  
I can stay awake for days  
If that's what you want

I can fake a smile  
I can force a laugh  
I can dance and play the part  
If that's what you ask

But I'm only human  
And I bleed when I fall down  
I'm only human  
And I crash and I break down  
Your words in my head, knives in my heart  
You build me up and then I fall apart

* * *

Cas had been employed for four months now, and with his living arrangement being all but free, he had saved up a large amount of money. Not only did the two jobs pay well, his promotion at the museum had greatly increased his income. Coupled with the fact that he didn't spend much of the money on anything but food for himself and Ghost, the money that he had been accumulating in his bank account was flourishing.

Each time a check came in the mail, Cas quickly sent all but $100 dollars a month into his account, and every time he felt something very akin to pride expand in his chest. It would build up and bubble, and Cas would turn to look over his shoulder with a small smile on his face and mirth in his eyes to say, _Still a baby in a trench coat?,_ to the green eyed man behind him, only to quickly realize that he wasn't there, and _wouldn't_ ever be there. The second he realized what he was doing, his smile would falter and crack, and his heart rate would sky rocket and his breath would harshen. Spiraling for something, Cas would duck his head and quickly scoop up Ghost. The time it took for his breath and heart to return to normal varied, ranging between five minutes or two hours. Whichever the case, he always ended up frustrated, exhausted, and metaphorically back on square one.

Today was one of the more brutal occasions, and Cas found himself paralyzed for around an hour and a half. The second he was back to himself, he fell asleep on the bed fully clothed. If it wasn't for Nora's incessant knocking at his door half an hour later, he would have been late for work. When he finally got back at to his room at half past 2 in the morning, Cas collapsed onto the bed and immediately was dead to the world.

He found that just because he was asleep, didn't mean that he was resting. On those nights, green would flash under his eyelids, and the smell of leather and bitter coffee would invade his senses. Old rock would buzz behind his ears, and snarky comments would float and bounce back and forth through his skull.

Those nights were the best nights of his life, and every morning when he would be unceremoniously woken up by his alarm would find his exhausted and heavy hearted. He didn't cry much past the first time, but the red that rimmed his eyes never left him. On those days, he was quiet- and he would walk past Nora on his way out and past his friend at the museum in silence.

He put on a mask- straightened his shoulders and schooled his expression. When he looked in the mirror, he saw Castiel, the angel of the lord- complete with his blank expression and perfect posture. Seeing himself this way brought about many conflicting and confusing emotions in him, but just as before he pushed them out and to the side where they slowly died and were replaced by his base instincts for the day. Smile at the attendants, walk slowly and pause in front of every other painting, remind people not to use flash or talk to loud, recite skeleton facts about the paintings, lead them back to the main room, thank them for coming out, and head to the backroom where he would wait for the next group.

The repetition of the day slowly calmed his nerves, and by the time his shift had ended and he was ready to take up his position at the bar, Cas was back. He was amiable, and laughed and smiled with the guys at the bar before heading up to his room where he would shift Ghost off his pillow before claiming it for himself.

He didn't much care for those days.

* * *

**Yes it's short- yes I apologize.**

**QOTD: Are the song lyrics annoying? Would you rather I didn't?**

**Love you guys! Read x Review!**


	6. This Place is My Own

**Suprise! Two updates this week! I know I know, I'm awesome :D**

**On another note- I've been thinking about the possibility of turning this story...not so pg, and it seems this time it's finally happened.**

**So! If you do not want to read a minor scene of sorts... don't read this?**

**And for those of y'all who like happy fun times... yay?**

**non-betad, all mistakes are mine**

* * *

**This Place is My Own**

* * *

Staring at the bottom of your glass  
Hoping one day you'll make a dream last  
But dreams come slow and they go so fast

You see him when you close your eyes  
Maybe one day you'll understand why  
Everything you touch surely dies

* * *

Cas was excited- foot tapping, blood pounding, spastic movements type of excited. Every now and then he would trail off on one of his sentences to look off over the heads of the crowd to stare at a spot on the wall for an incongruous amount of time before snapping back into himself and smile slightly and bite his lip. It earned him quite a few head turns, but he elected to ignore the odd looks before bounding on to the next gallery to animatedly talk about one of the paintings again.

He'd never experienced this type of feeling before, and he found it exhilarating if slightly cumbersome in its total encompassing of his senses. It was all he could do to not just run home to just get to it, but he resisted and continued to lead the tours. Every few minutes he would glance over to the clock above the wall to find the minute hand barely moved at all. Annoyed but not deterred, Cas would internally huff and walk the group a little bit faster, trying to convince himself and the clock that the faster he went, the faster the time would go.

At one point, when he was on break, Tyler pulled him aside.

"Hey dude, did you hear about the new exhibit we're about to put up?"

In Cas' defense, he did try to pay attention. He really did.

"Hmm?"

It was peculiar. His mouth was moving- and his hands were going and his eyes were sparkling- yet Cas could not really hear what was coming out of his mouth. Everytime he tried to focus on what he was saying he would look over at the clock or start planning out what he was going to do when…

"So ya. It's going to be awesome! Next week dude. Just remember- you're off on Monday and Tuesday as their won't be any tours to lead due to the installation."

"Sounds great." Cas said distractedly. They 'held a conversation' for a couple more minutes before he was required to get ready for the next tour, and said their goodbyes.

Finally, _years_ after his shift started, it was 6:00 and he was able to leave. He all but ran out the door, choosing to disregard the amused smirks of his coworkers in favor of jumping on the metro and returning to the bar.

The whole way back, his heart was racing. Making the decision hadn't been easy- but once he made it he knew it was the right one. He could do it- he had the funds, he had the reason. In all honestly he was surprised he hadn't decided to do something like this sooner. What made it even better was that it was Friday, and he was all but off until Wednesday.

The second he got back, he sat on the bed and pulled out his computer. Within minutes he pulled up the browser and had apartment websites open.

His decision to get his own place was at first difficult. He had a room here, but quickly he realized that having one room above a bar with one bathroom between himself and his employer wasn't much of a living arrangement. He found that he had been more like squatting then living, and the benefits of having a place to himself seemed high. It also came with the perk of no longer being reliant on anyone, Of course Nora was lovely, but he felt as if he would feel far more accomplished if he no longer was living off the kindness of others. Besides, Nora hadn't been expecting him to live their forever.

It was then that he had truly committed to the idea, and he had spent the whole other night staring up at the ceiling in this room as he tried to sleep imagining what his own place would be like. Obviously it would have to allow pets, as Ghost would be joining him, but what else would it have?

_It would need to have a huge bedroom, with a bed soft enough to all but drown in… and the shower! That would have to be perfect…_

Cas had spent the whole day at work imagining what his house would look like, and counting down the hours it would take for him to go home and officially start looking up specific places.

That whole night once he got home Cas locked himself in his room, taking full advantage of himself not working that night to look up all the available apartments in his area. He searched the web for 10 hours, staying up until 4:30 to find the perfect apartment. After searching through ones that were to big, to small, to far, to dingy, to expensive, Cas came across three apartments that he could truly see himself living in. They were small but not crowded, easily big enough for two people, let alone one. Before he fell asleep, Cas sent out an email to have a realtor meet with him to show him around the apartments as soon as possible. As soon as he sent it off, Cas slipped out of his clothes and flopped back onto the bed, exhausted but exhilarated to _finally_ be self reliant.

When he woke up, the first thing he did was check his email. His heart all but stopped as he saw a return email from the realator, and it was with a tight stomach that he opened it and read its contents.

What he saw all but made him want to jump in the air. Monday. Monday at nine o'clock he would go to pick his apartment. His. His apartment.

* * *

The weekend could not have past so slowly, and he spent it checking and rechecking his bank account to make sure he would have enough for the down payment and at least the next four months. Of course he did, he knew he did, but the risk of him not checking and the money disappearing was to great- and do every couple hours he would check again, just to be sure.

When Monday finally came, Cas was up at six, and paced hi room for the following two hours. Finally, at eight- he went downstairs and across the street to grab a coffee and eat a small breakfast of eggs and sausage before heading out to the first of the three apartments. He was fifteen minutes early, but he spent the whole time grinning like a madman up at the complex to notice the time passing.

The woman arrived to show him around at 9:07:23, and Cas would have been upset if he wasn't so excited to see the apartment. The first one was nice, but he found the noise of the street to be to noticeable. When he went on to the second one, he found it perfect, save for the size of the bathroom. It was small- barely enough room for a stand in shower. Starting to panic that he wouldn't find his perfect apartment, Cas was lead to the last of the three apartments.

He should have known the best would have been saved for last, and he wasn't disappointed. The complex was a small one, and set back from the street by a short gravel road that led to the gated complex. Once inside, Cas found the exposed brick layout of the apartment to be endearing, as well as the stone countertops and fireplace. He was absolutely sold on the building before he even looked at the bedroom, but when he did he felt like he had died and returned to his heaven. The room was massive, and sitting in the middle was a king sized bed, proudly taking up a good portion of the room. A small bookcase lay in the corner, and to the right lay a connecting bathroom that was almost just as big as the bedroom itself. Inside was a huge shower with an impressive showerhead, and he knew before even trying it that the water pressure would be magnificent. Along with the shower was a huge bathtub with accompanying jets. Not even bothering to consider the purchase further, Cas returned to the realtor and agreed to buy the apartment.

At 4:00, three hours after laying eyes on his apartment, Cas was left with a certificate of ownership, keys, and a fully furnished apartment. Happy did not even begin to encompass the emotion that enveloped him.

An hour later, Cas returned to the bar to surprise Nora with the good news. Not wanting to spend another night at the bar with his own apartment ready to be moved into, Cas packed up his belongings. He was surprised to note it did not all fit into one bag as it used to, but Nora came upstairs and knocked on his door, offering to drive him and his things down to his new house. He was about heartily agree, before he registered Ghost walking past the bed.

"Oh- no Nora, it's fine. I can just go down to the corner store and get a few extra bags. I don't need to inconvenience you."

Cas went to the door, intent on stepping out to go do just that, when her hand and frankly her whole body blocked the way.

"Clarence. Stop. You know very well it's not much trouble as the bar doesn't open for three more hours. Furthermore, I want to see what kind of place you got for yourself."

Nora walked out of the room, clealy sending a message that the issue was not to be further discussed. As she neared the stairs, she turned around a shouted back towards his room.

"And no, the cat you've been hiding up their won't be a problem. I've been taking pills for a couple of weeks now, so it won't be a problem."

Slightly shocked that Ghost hadn't been quite as inconspicuous as he had hoped, Cas gathered up what he could of his things and deposited them in her car before grabbing the rest of them. When he was all packed, he sheepishly waited outside the car for Nora with Ghost in his arms. When she appeared, Cas scrubbed his hand along the base of his neck.

" I was planning on asking you to let her stay. But with your allergies I wasn't sure.."

She came around and got in the driver's seat, and Cas took that as an opportunity to settle down in the car.

"It's fine. Better to ask for forgiveness then permission, right? It _did _give me quite a shock when I ran into her, to be honest. I almost tripped over her and had a heart attack."

Cas shot Ghost a glare, trying to convey his annoyance at her non-cooperation with his eyes, but he doubted she got it.

"Either way; I'm sorry. I should've asked."

Nora nodded beside him, and turned to flash a smile his way before turning her eyes back to the road. Before long, Cas directed her to the apartment complex and was leading her inside. He was excited to know what she thought, and the suspense of watching her walk around with a curious look in her eye was enough to make him almost split. When she was done surveying the place, she turned around and walked over to him. Without saying anything, Nora threw her arms around Cas's shoulders.

"You've done great, Clarence. Amazing. This place is beautiful. I'm so proud."

Cas' heart squeezed at her words, and he buried his head in her shoulder. _He'd done good- great. She was proud of him._

* * *

Later that night after he had moved all of his stuff into the house and Nora had returned to the bar, granting him a night off for the first time to, "settle into his new life, "Cas slipped into the bed. He all but melted into the soft mattress, and fell asleep faster than he had in a long time.

* * *

The dream returned- worse than ever. This time it was different though, instead of flashed of memories, it was a scene. Cas was at his house, and Dean was at the door. Cas led him in, takingup in the man's hard frame and smiling face.

Before he was aware what was happening, he was leading Dean around the house- showing him every room and delighted when every time Dean would smile at him and lean down to kiss his ear.

"It's wonderful Cas. I'm so proud. You deserve this."

The scene shifted, and his dream self was leading Dean into the bedroom. He waited for Dean to turn to him and tell him what he thought, Dean's hand firm around his waist. When he was through surveying the room, he turned to look Cas in the eye and pulled him flush against his body. Then slowly, oh so slowly, his hand trailed around to the small of his back and slipped under his shirt.

Cas pulled back and stared at the man infront of him.

"Dean, I…," Cas started to speak, but Dean stepped forward again, kissing the fallen angel with curious lips. Cas immediately kissed him back, fisting his hands in Dean's jacket. Dean's hands touched Cas's chest, his arms, his back, and he felt Cas's hand slip into his hair. They melted against each other, Cas's soft lips pressing and slanting against Dean's, his tongue pushing into the hunter's mouth tentatively. Dean welcomed it readliy, his head light and his body feeling even lighter. He let out a soft whimper when Cas finally pulled away, and he gave a breathless sigh. Cas's thumb brushed across Dean's bottom lip, his eyes heavy-lidded and full of lust. The sight of them directed all the blood and his body downwards and he closed his eyes, gripping onto Castiel's sleeves and leaning in for another kiss.

"Dean… I've missed you," Cas whispered, his voice husky.

"I missed you too, Cas," Dean whispered back. Cas's hand slid down to Dean's chest, once again.

His hand was burning, and it was all Cas could do to reach forward and grab onto the hunter's jacket. Next thing he knew, they were both pulling at clothes and trading heated kisses. Their tongues battled, and they soaked in each other's bodies. Pulling and groping quickly turned to grinding, and right as he felt like he was about to burst with happiness and urgency Dean walked him back to the bed and pushed him backwards bed before quickly crawling over him.

Dean kissed his way up Cas' body, pausing to swirl his tongue around each of Cas' nipples, causing him to arch up into the touch and cry out. Chuckling, Dean teasingly bit the hardened nub and continued his journey upward, giving special attention to his neck and the patch of skin behind his ear. It was all Cas could do to not cry out, and when Dean finally made his way up to his lips he paused, and looked Cas in the eye.

Panting for breath, Cas looked up at the man before him. He was beautiful, his lips reddened and plush. A red hue was spreading around his chest, and his _eyes_. Cas could barely see the shock of green around his enlarged pupils, and it that sight didn't cause Cas to throb and groan, he didn't know what would.

Dean's eyes softened as he stared at him, and then slowly, Dean leaned down and placed his lips at Cas' ear.

"So proud Cas. I love y-"

Cas woke up spluttering. His head was spinning, and a piercing pain shot through his back and neck. Disoriented, exhausted, and shaking Cas stumbled out of the bed and into the bathroom. He was crying. He could feel the tracks of tears run down his face but he didn't care. _I was over this. I was done. I'd moved on god fucking dammit! I..I don't need this. I can't want this. Stop thinking about him! I don't… I can't!..."_

Thoughts spiraling away from him, Cas finally fumbled for his sleeping pills. He had got them a few weeks ago after he first started losing sleep to his nightmares. And they _were _nightmares.

When his hands finally closed around the bottle, he ripped of the cap and swallowed a few dry before throwing the bottle back onto the sink and crawling back into his bed. He was sobbing and barely coherent, but he didn't care. He couldn't, wouldn't deal with this then. He was through. He had a new life, a better one! And he would act like it.

Quickly, the pills started to take effect and Cas started to calm down again. The tears didn't stop, but his muscles forcibly relaxed back into the bed and his mind clouded over.

The rest of his night was dream free, and he couldn't be more thankful for it.

* * *

**So ya! PLEASE tell me what you think!**

**Also- I didn't have much time to read over this because I wanted this out today so I /will/ read over it again tomorrow to make sure it wasn't to crappy.**

**Um- now for a big question, in the future do you guys want a full out sexy times scene? Because I have one in mind... but you guys need to me know if you want it**

**And finally- what did you think? **

**Read x Review!**

**~Magnolia**


	7. Relapse

**Hey! Did you guys know it snowed in Texas today? It was a pretty big deal :D**

**Went "snowboarding" today and it was great...right up until I fell through the ice**

**Mariah73- you sure about that?**

**Currently Un-betad**

* * *

**Relapse**

* * *

You never go  
Your always here (suffocating me)  
Under my skin  
I cannot run away  
Fading slowly

I'd give it all to you  
Letting go of me  
Reaching as I fall  
I know it's already over now  
Nothing left to lose  
Loving you again  
I know it's already over, already over now

My best defense, running from you  
I can't resist, take all you want from me  
Breaking slowly

I'd give it all to you  
Letting go of me  
Reaching as I fall  
I know it's already over now  
Nothing left to lose  
Loving you again  
I know it's already over, already over now!

* * *

Waking up was one of Cas' least favorite thing about being human, followed quickly by falling asleep. It was disorienting and a sign of weakness. Every time he woke up he felt like he was unceremoniously thrown head first back into the world. His head would spin, his stomach would roll, and he would have no idea what time or even day it was until several minutes later when he had finally collected himself enough to grab his phone from the nightstand and squint through the glare to translate the blur on the screen into the answer. His muscles were slow to cooperate, and he couldn't think straight.

Cas had come to the decision that he was not, in fact, a morning person. Or a night person, really, as it took him hours to finally relax his muscles long enough to sleep.

It was because of this, really, that Cas had taken to sleeping pills. They were efficient, and took away the need for him to force himself to relax enough. He decided that being forced into submitting was better than submitting on his own free will- so it was with that logic that Cas began to take them.

Their timing worked out perfectly as well. Their effect would start to wear off about half an hour before his alarm would go off, leaving him able to wake up at the scheduled time. He could only take them on the days he wasn't working at the bar, but on those nights he normally fell asleep right away due to exhaustion without the help or need of the pills.

Today though, with him not only taking the two pills at night like usual but also taking who knows how many at an unknown time in the morning, they lasted a bit longer than usual.

And by a bit- it means that not only did he sleep through his alarm once, but he slept through it the five times it went off. It was only when the sun shone through the blinds and fell on his face did he shoot awake. Just _knowing_ that he had overslept, Cas groaned and stumbled into the shower, waking fully when the icy water ran over him.

When he finally made it to the museum, the meeting, the one that Tyler had been constantly texting him about- the one he had made sure Cas knew he couldn't be late for- the one addressing the opening of the new exhibit- was over. Cas groaned- cursing the fact that the first time he was late had to be on _this day_ had to be this one.

Ducking his head and trying to avoid everyone on his way to the backroom, Cas ran in to Tyler.

"Hey man, where were you?"

Turning to face him, Cas scrubbed his hand over his face and let out a frustrated sigh. "I believe I overslept. I can promise it won't happen again."

"Ya I'm sure it's no problem. But man! You sure missed out! They had these miniature Philly cheesesteak sandwiches, they're delicious!"

Laughing slightly at Tyler' enthusiasm, Cas walked with him into the backroom, depositing his stuff along the way.

"But seriously, if you want me to show you around the new exhibit after you get off today. I mean- I _did_ hear the whole speech, I'm sure I could recite it well enough. We could just go visit it after work and I could fill you in. It's no bother, I promise."

Tyler laughed nervously at the end, looking slightly reddened before fidgeting slightly in his stance. Not quite knowing what was going on with him, Cas smiled at him and shook his head.

"It's ok. I appreciate the offer, but I can do it on my own. It's my fault for being late. Besides, today is my day to archive some of the documents, I'll be here long past closing."

"If you're sure man. It's no trouble- I could come back later and…"

"That won't be necessary Tyler, but thank you."

Flashing him one more smile, Cas hastily exited the room to just make it in time for the start of his first tour.

* * *

Once Cas brought his tour group back to the front, he headed back to the storage rooms, intent on finishing his work in time to get back to his apartment in time to make up for lost sleep. Even though he had slept longer then usual, he was exhausted, and more then ready to sleep it off.

Hours passed and Cas put the final tote of manuscripts in the vault. Yawning, he exited the room, surprised to find everyone gone and the rooms darkened save for the safety lights. Slightly taken aback, Cas looked at the time, only to be shocked to find that it was already 10 pm. Deciding that now was as good a time as any to go see the new exhibit, Cas headed down the familiar halls to arrive at the alcove. Previously, this exhibit had held an art instillation, but with the way all the guys were talking about it, he could presume it was not, in fact, another art exhibit.

Walking in and groping at the wall for the light switch, Cas flipped on the power and let his eyes fall closed as the lights powered up. He had been caught unawares at just how powerful the white lights were a couple times to many- and he didn't need his eyes to get burned twice in one day.

Only when his eyelids turned pink did he cautiously open them. Blinking a couple of times to adjust to the brightness, he turned around once he could see clearly. The first thing he took his was the bright yellow '1966 Lamborghini Miura'. The car was in supreme condition, it's paint glossy and fresh, looking like it hadn't been made more than a year ago. Next to it, according to its name plate, was a red 1969 Ferrari Dino 246 GT. The whole row of cars down this side of the wall were gorgeous, and looked to have been restored magnificently. Not quite letting himself consider why he felt, for lack of better words, at peace knowing that the cars had been treated with utmost care. Turning around to face the other line of cars, Cas stopped dead in his tracks.

Right in the middle, the center piece of the collection, the ugly joke to the whole party, was a 1967 Chevrolet Impala. He _knew_ it wasn't the same one, it wasn't possible. This one looked like it hadn't even been driven off the lot. He even briefly registered the plaque identifying this one as the 10th one in production- he knew it. It was _different_.

But just like many of the things Cas had learned about humanity in the almost 5 months he had been living it, logic didn't apply. The bone deep _horror_ at what he was looking at locked his knees and rendered him immobile. He mind was stuck on an infinite loop, screaming "no…no…no" over and over again. Frozen, unable to fight or resist, painfully memories of sitting in her passenger seat, feeling the leather underneath his fingers, listening to her distinctive rumble, hearing the rock roll from her speakers; talking debating _laughing_ within her four walls overcame him.

I can't stay here.

With a great deal of effort Cas yanked himself from the wall he found himself pressed against, getting the undeniable feeling of his heart being ripped out through his chest and left steaming on the floor. With vague sense of direction, Cas stumbled and lurched his way through the halls, unable to see as tears spilled over his eyes and poured down his cheeks. Hysterical, Cas found himself in main lobby. Cries of relief ripped themselves from his throat and he fled the doors, running out into the darkness with little thought to where he was going.

Hours later, Cas, through nothing but luck, found himself running into the lobby of his apartment and tearing up the stairs to arrive at his apartment. Fumbling with his keys, it took him multiple tries to stop his fingers from shaking long enough to insert the correct key into the lock and fall into his room.

Feeling nauseous, Cas fell to the ground in front of the door, curling up into a ball with his head between his knees.

"Not the same…not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same… not the same…"

* * *

Once the need to throw up had passed him enough to stand, Cas staggered to his feet and ran into his room to take the rest of the bottles worth of pills. Before he went to the bed to lay down, a fool's idea crossed through his fevered mind.

_I could do it…yes.. it would work!..it would have to. I know it will. Yes- yes this will work. I can make it work- I need it to._

The sigils and script needed flew to the forefront of his mind, and with shaky hands Cas found a piece of paper and a pen. Holding it up against the wall, Cas scribbled out the shape of sigil and brokenly filled in the lines of text. When he was done, he held the paper in front of his face and looked at it forlornly.

The idea was reckless borderline stupid, but he needed it. He couldn't be expected to live this life with the memories tormenting him every day. He had a life, he _liked_ his life, and he didn't need… couldn't _live_ with the smallest thing causing him to fall to his knees. He couldn't do with the constant reminders of his past, and if this was the only option to let it go- then he would.

Along with everything else.

* * *

**...Sorry?**

**Read x Review!**

**~Magnolia**


	8. End of an Era

**Final Thoughts**

There is nothing left of me  
You can see it in my eyes  
Sing the anthem of the angels  
And say the last goodbye

Cold light above us  
Hope fills the heart  
And fades away  
Skin white as winter  
As the sky returns to grey

Days go on forever  
I was forced to leave your side  
We couldn't chase the dark together  
If you go-

When Cas woke up in the morning, it was not by choice. The piercing ring of his phone drove daggers into his skull. Groaning in pain, Cas rolled over in his bed and mashed his ear into the mattress, doing his best to drown out the sound. After years of the horrid noise, the ringing finally stopped. Cas almost wept with relief, and he might've, had it not been for the voice mail kicking in.

"Hey uh, Clarence. It's 9:30, and I was kind of wondering where you are. Boss-man said you didn't schedule a replacement for your tours and you aren't here? He all but blew a gasket but I covered for you. Said you just forgot to write it down. He's a little annoyed, but when isn't he mad at something or other am I right? So ya, it was no big; I only expect your soul and your everlasting gratitude. But man, just wondering where you were and if I should be expecting your ass anytime soon. I'm telling you, -"

Cas, who had been blindly reaching for the phone since the start, finally closed his fingers around the device and ripped at the battery. Flinging the pieces of the phone across the room, Cas collapsed back onto the bed and fell asleep.

When he woke up for keeps, his whole room was filled with light. Inversely reflecting his state, Cas stared up at the ceiling. Just the thought of getting out of bed and going about seemed exhausting and a waste of time. He didn't want to look at anyone, see anyone, or talk to anyone.

Feeling like he weighed a million tons, Cas sank back into the bed. He wanted to bury into the blankets forever, looking to the window, Cas only saw the dirty-white of the winter sky and the tops of the planters on his balcony. As he stared, he saw movements just over the green. Whatever it was wasn't going high enough for Cas to get a clear view of what it was. So he waited.

An unaccounted for amount of time later a small bee rose to the top of the planter. Lazily, it darted back and forth with no discernible pattern. Cas remembered a time when he used to be able to pick it out- see the order and plan that this bee had and the route it would follow.

Remembering the things he used to be able to made him wince. It also made him remember exactly why he was lying in bed at noon on a work day hiding from the world and him from the thoughts that he was trying to avoid.

When Cas rolled over, he saw a sheet of wadded up paper on the small table next to his bed. Never one to have left trash around before, he reached over and picked it up. Carefully, Cas unrolled the ball and spread it out. When it was fully opened, he saw the harsh scrawl of his design from the night before.

He idly traced the design with his fingers, and wondered what it would be like if he were to do it. He would finally have a new life. He couldn't run for the past forever, and as he wasn't allowed to face it- he might as well just…get rid of it.

After rolling the idea around in his head, Cas eventually gently folded the sheet of paper and slid out of bed. The air around him was bitterly cold, but he barely felt it as he got dressed. He pulled out a pair of pants from the dresser and slipped on a simple button down. His boots were snug around his feet, and Cas made sure to tighten the laces evenly. After that, he placed the simple unassuming sheet of paper into his pocket- and walked out the door.

**(Copy this link if you want to see the drawing Cas drew: . /da716426a66b20d71544e301fdfdb644/tumblr_mxrv0lWI7l1rbsrslo1_ )**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**No Going Back Now**

Here's wishing for the bluest sky  
And hoping something better comes tomorrow.  
Hoping all the verses rhyme,  
And the very best of choruses to  
Follow all the doubt and sadness.  
I know that better things are on the way.

Here's hoping all the days ahead  
Wont be as bitter as the ones behind  
Be an optimist instead,  
And somehow happiness will find me.  
Forget what happened yesterday,  
I know that better things are on the way.

The bell above the dilapidated shop echoed through the tiny room. Letting out a heady column of smoke, the man behind the counter lazily looked raised his gaze to the door. Standing at the threshold was a man with thick purpling bruises under his eyes and disheveled hair. His light blue shirt was buttoned two to three buttons off, leaving one end hanging far below the other. He looked like he could have used a few more hours of sleep. Alex sighed, inwardly hoping he wasn't a stoner. He had a health inspection scheduled for five and he didn't need him to stink up the place and get him another citation.

The man took a few steps forward and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, staring around at the walls. Not bothering to say anything, Alex just took another long sip of the black sludge most commonly passed as coffee and felt it slide down his throat, barely look warm. He drank it to the dregs, then through Styrofoam cup into the small trashcan behind him. It landed wish a whoosh into the basket, and he didn't even take the usual moment to celebrate the victory before turning his gaze back to the disconcertingly quiet man in front of him. When a few more minutes past of him just staring at the wall in silence, Alex let out a small cough to signal his blatantly obvious presence.

When that instilled no reaction, Alex groaned, this man was stoned as _shit_.

"Hey man. Can I help you with something?"

Turning to face his way, Mr. One-to-Many squinted at him and reached into his pocket and pulled out a credit card. "I have money."

_Of course_

"Looking for a tat? What do you have in mind? Half sleeve? Full?"

Reaching into his pocket once more, the man pulled out a folded up piece of paper. Feeling a little better that the man had at least previously thought about getting this tattoo and wouldn't just wake up with it the next day, he watched as the man slowly unfolded the sheet and looked at it oddly for a few moments before hesitantly laying it on the table in front of him.

"Forearm, preferably."

When Alex rotated the page around to get a good look at the design, he blanched. It didn't just look like the man had been stoned, he must have been shit faced and hallucinating as well! The page was just scrawled through with angrily scribbled lines and rugged edges. None of the symbols had any symmetry to them and they were all over the place.

Mr. Crazy-One-to-Many stared back at him expectantly. Alex studied him, contemplating his options. On theory, he could copy these symbols as is and let the man walk away, that would teach him to smoke on health inspection days. But Alex, commonplace coldness aside, was cruel- but not _that_ cruel. Inwardly resigning himself to his fate, he took the paper in his hands and set it aside while scavenging around on his overflowing desk.

"Sure I can do that. Let me just make a few adjustments. Once you approve it I can move it to transfer paper and we can get started."

Nodding, he went over to sit on the small wooden chair in the corner, in which he promptly went back to staring at the works on the wall. Figuring the was at least lucky that he wasn't going to be causing trouble, Alex looked down at the white page in front of him, wondering how in the world he was going to make it work.

Twenty or so minutes later, Alex decided that the design was finished. Not only did it no longer look like drunken scribbling, but it actually looked fucking bad ass, if he did say so himself. Blowing off the last of the eraser shavings, he stood up from his chair and popped his back, groaning when it popped at pulled. Relaxing back into a slump with a sigh, Alex walked over to Mr. Fun-at-Parties and held out the paper.

"Check this out for size. What do you think?"

The man took the drawing from his outstretched hand and looked it over quizzically. After a few moments, without looking up, he addressed him.

"It seems quite a bit bigger than the original."

Right as Alex was about to open up his mouth to protest and defend the piece, the man continued.

"But I think it will do nicely. Yes, it's perfect."

Grinning widely, Alex snatched the paper back and went back over to his table, suddenly excited more than he had been in a while to complete the piece.

"Bet your ass it's perfect. Just wait a couple more minutes so I can move it over to transfer paper and we can get started."

The process went smoothly after that, and before long he had the man's skin prepped and was laying down the transfer paper. He nitpicked over the placement for several minutes that it would flow seamlessly with the muscles in his arm; and after getting it just right, he sat down to work.

The gun buzzed in his hand and the first line came out clean and strong, dark and sharp against the man's light skin. He was extremely relaxed throughout the whole process, not even widening his eyes or tightening his fingers with the stinging presses of the gun.

Time passed differently when he worked, and without the need to carry small talk or deal with the client moving, Alex quickly fell into the headspace he needed to seamlessly and efficiently create the tat, sinking in to the rhythm of his craft.

Later, after smoothing over the last of the lines, Alex let go of the man's hand.

"I'm done. What do you think?"

Looking at the man's face for the first time since the start of the tattooing, Alex was surprised to find the man looking pale and feverish.

_Guess he doesn't come off of drugs well._

He glanced down at his new tattoo, before quickly tilting his head back against the headrest and closing his eyes.

"It's wonderful. Thank you. Could you possibly finish up as soon as possible? I'm not feeling too well."

"Sure thing. Just give me a couple more minutes and then a couple more to finalize some paperwork and you're outta here."

Alex reached over and laid a sterile bandage over the skin, pleased with his work. Drunken/stoned mistake or not, at least the tat was cool as shit.

Once that was done, he looked back up at the man. Almost seeing his condition deteriorate before his eyes, Alex quickly went about gathering the paper and showing him hastily where to sign. Once that was done with almost blind compliance, the man handed over his card to pay.

Swiping and completing the transaction faster than he can remember ever doing it, Alex found himself glancing up at the man every few minutes, as if expecting to find him passed out on the floor. And that was one thing he _really_ couldn't deal with right now.

The receipt printed slowly, and each second that it inched out of the machine seemed like several too long. Eventually, it finished printing and he hurriedly tore it off and handed it to the man to the sign. After that was done, he gratefully stood up to lead him to the door.

"And you're done. Here are a couple of pamphlets of care that you're going to have to keep up with. And that's it. Any questions and you can just come back over here. I'd love to see how that tattoo turns out anyway."

Nodding in the way that only people who have no idea what's going on do, the man stumbled out of the building and half stumbled half ran down the block. Turning back to his shop, Alex let out a curse when he realized he now only had a little under an hour to clean and sterilize the whole shop before the health inspectors came. _Fuck!_

How Cas made it back to his apartment in one piece he didn't know. As soon as the marks on his arm were completed in ink, his whole body had started to feel like it was on fire. Strips of flames licked up his spine and into his skull, and it was all he could do to sit still on the bus home as he felt himself start to sweat profusely and sway in his seat.

Once he made it home, the first thing he did was fall into the bathroom and wretch into the toilet. His chest heaved and burned, and he weakly rinsed out his mouth before pulling himself through the hallway and falling on top of his sheets. The spotted world around him flicked and rotated. And then, without further presentation, black poured over his vision, and took him with it.

He didn't wake up for a while. And when he did, three days had passed, and so had Cas.


	9. Start of Something New

**Hey Guys! So sorry about the annoying double fake updates. I've been having so much trouble with it saying it uploaded a chapter but then it not updating... and ugh. It was just a big mess. Hopefully, that is a thing of the past now :)**

**Nonbetad- all mistakes are mine**

* * *

**Start of Something New**

* * *

**Birds flying high  
You know how I feel  
Sun in the sky  
You know how I feel  
Breeze driftin' on by  
You know how I feel  
It's a new dawn  
It's a new day  
It's a new life  
For me  
And I'm feeling good  
**

* * *

_Beep… Beep…. Beep…._

The incessant beeping was what did it. The machines and the squeaks of wheels that would occasionally roll past the room were one thing, as were the low murmurs. Those he could ignore- if he tried hard enough. But the shrill noise that was never ending- there's only so long he could ignore it and stay blissfully unaware of what was going on around him.

And it was because he was _tired_. Even _thinking _was painful and draining. He felt as if he had been hit in the head with a crowbar. A thick dull ache was spreading through him, glowing red and angry towards the back of his skull. He tried his best to float off back into unconsciousness to avoid the pain, but each beep just pulled him back closer into awareness and more aware of the fire in his head. So really, waking up was just another level of hell.

Each ping of the machine that was _right next to his ear_ dragged him upwards. Slowly he began to feel his cramped muscles, the heaviness of each limb. His head _burned_.

Slowly, he no longer was resisting the urge to wake up, but pushing- fighting his way out of sleep as the pain in his head grew. He felt as if someone had just cracked open his skull and just ripped and tore at whatever it would find. The effort to raise his eyelids was a long-battle well fought, and only with exuberant amount of effort did he tear them open, hoping that someone would be there to give him _something_ to fight the pain.

Cas opened his eyes to stare up at the ceiling. Instead of the wood paneling he expected to see, there was a stark white ceiling with a blinding over head light. Shying away from the light, Cas quickly scrunched his eyes closed to shut it out and rolled to the side slightly. After a few moments, he tried again, hesitantly. Slowly, Cas raised his eyes and adjusted to the unnatural whiteness around him to witness his surroundings.

Sitting in the chair across from him was a form, though with bleary eyes he was unable to tell who it was. Slowly the figure solidified and sharpened into a person- a girl. She had blond hair pulled back loosely into a pony-tail, with loose strands falling around her face. _Nora_, his brain supplied.

He Worked his throat to try to tell Nora to get pain meds, when she looked at him and found him awake.

"Oh my gosh Clarence! Are you ok? Dr. Claredy! He's awake!"

Before he would ask her anything, she was out the door running. Several moments later, a team of nurses bustled into the room, pulling at tubes disappearing into his arm and reading and recording data from the monitors. When Nora came back, she sat on the edge of the bed and held his hand.

"Do NOT do that again! Do you know what it was like for me? I thought you were dead! Who else would be around to cover your shifts! No matter how hard I try I can't ever seem to get Bill to wipe down all the tables and machinery properly. You don't find people who take care of things like that that often. And not to mention how…"

Cas relaxed back into the bed slowly, smiling softly at Nora's soft voice and melodic tone. Eventually, after letting himself get carried away by her voice, the nurses returned and talked to him quickly for several minutes. After that exchange, he found out he was discharged and set to go back to his house with strict orders to drink a lot of liquids and thank heaven that "this lovely lady had gotten to you in time."

Later that night after returning to his apartment with Nora, he sat down in a chair opposite her and wrapped his hands around a water bottle.

"Nora, I was wondering if you could tell me… what happened?"

She looked at him then, with a sad look on her face. "Oh hon, what do you remember?"

"Last I can remember I was doing inventory at the museum and came home. I don't really remember much after that."

Nora looked at him carefully, and after searching his face for several minutes she haltingly started telling him what she knew.

"Well, I called you on Friday to see if you wanted to go furniture scavenging, and you didn't pick up. When you didn't show up for work on Saturday I got worried and tried calling you again. When you didn't answer, me and Bill, we went down to your apartment to see if you were alright. You didn't answer the bell- so I used the key to the house that I know you keep under the flower pot and, don't be mad, but went inside."

Nora stopped her story to look at him apologetically. It wasn't until he bade her continue that she went on.

"Well uh, a lot of things were on the floor in the hallway so we started to think there was a break in. Bill even picked up the fireplace poker and everything. When we went into your room and saw you lying on bed I tried to wake you up but you… wouldn't. I thought you were dead! Anyway uh, we took you to the hospital really quickly after that."

Not fully wanting the answer to his question, Cas quietly asked, "How long was I out."

"Till Sunday- three days. Maybe more." She whispered.

Not knowing what else to say, Cas dragged her into a hug and pressed his lips to her hair. Silently apologizing to her and reassuring her that he was here.

* * *

Cas was given paid leave until Wednesday, and he spent the time organizing his apartment. He set about making an organizational system, and went to the store several times to purchase boxes, shelving, and book cases. When he wasn't doing that, he was reclining in his chair with Ghost, doing his best to make it up to her for the neglectment. Throughout the day he would get several pounding headaches, some so severe as to cripple him for hours. He likened the pain to one someone would experience when given a transplant, he felt like his body was revolting against his brain.

He quickly set about finding remedies for his headaches, finally landing on one that claimed chamomile and ginger-root tea would sooth his head. Either it was the time passing or in fact the tea, slowly the headaches came only once a day, and then every few days, then once a week. When Cas took his first shower since the hospital and saw the tattoo on his arm, he smiled; remembering how he had gotten it when he was still in college after writing his master thesis on ancient hieroglyphics and mysticism.

Shortly after, Cas was back to working full time. He went out to Friday night poker with the guys like usual, although Tyler looked surprised when Cas agreed to go down with them. Chalking it up to him just being shocked that he would go down to a bar just a week after his hospital stint, Cas joined them at The Bunker, and although he didn't quite get why they yelled and shouted and the corner television whenever the _California Golden Bears_ ran with the ball, he did quite enjoy the air of comrade surrounding them all. Smiling, Cas turned back to the game and cheered just as hard as the rest of them when the guy in yellow made the final 'touchdown' and subsequently won the game.

He liked his life. It was a good one.

* * *

**So ya! Cas is memory wiped. BAM. :/  
**

**Major question: Seeing as though he doesn't know he's Cas anymore, would you prefer me to start calling him Clarence all the time? I'd prefer to stick with Cas unless someone was talking because I feel like that will make it easier to read, but it's your call.**

**Goodbye 2013! May 2014 be 5 trillion times better!**

**Also- #Kevinlives**

**Read and Review!**

**~Magnolia**


	10. Parting Ways II

**Happy New Year! As a present to you guys for making it thus far- get ready for *drum roll* Dean's return!**

**Un-betad: All mistakes are mine**

* * *

**Parting Ways II**

* * *

I want you to know  
That it doesn't matter  
Where we take this road  
But someone's gotta go  
And I want you to know  
You couldn't have loved me better  
But I want you to move on  
So I'm already gone

* * *

**Day 0: Train station**

The train was delayed- which was something he didn't know whether to be grateful for or not. Sitting next to Cas on the hard plastic bench was more painful than he had thought possible. Next to him, Cas was mute, not offering in a word to help the situation along. Nervously, Dean rambled on about what to expect. What to eat, what to avoid. How great different types of clothes are… he made predictions aloud as to whether or not Cas would be a tea or coffee person. He put his money on tea, openly hypothesizing that Cas was weird and would therefore like it; that his favorite would be some rag-tag blend only made in the mountains by a secluded village isolated from the rest of humanity.

Cas didn't offer any substance to the one-sided debate, however.

Fidgeting somewhat while trying to pull a conversation out of thin air, Dean took in Cas' profile. His back was rigidly straight, the only dip being in his shoulders where his head hung low. He never once looked back at him, his eyes fixed firmly to a spot on the ground off to his left. His face gave nothing away- as blank a slate as when they had first met.

Cas hadn't said much since the day previous. After Dean had left his room, they hadn't spoken. When he woke up- he had followed the smell of coffee into the kitchen; only to see Cas sitting awkwardly on the couch with all his things packed on the floor in front of him and a cup of coffee in hand. Working his throat roughly, Dean said, "I guess you're ready to go then?"

Cas had nodded, not quite meeting his eyes.

Feeling guilty, Dean turned around and mumbles something about leaving after they stopped at the store and had picked out a couple more things for him to bring, but Cas stopped his softly.

"No need and no time. I took the liberty of checking the tickets on the trains out today. I booked one for the 9 o'clock. We only have half an hour if you want me to make it."

Dean had to stop himself from asking him to book the next one out, or maybe the one after that, or the one after that… but instead he just turned around and forced out something about there at least being time for him to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Now, the drink grew cold in his hands, hardly touched. Just as he was about to fumble for something else to talk about, Cas- turning his head slightly, spoke.

"It's curious."

Not daring to interrupt him, Dean settled to just looking at him; doing his best to catalog every sound and movement he made, less he forget to soon.

"This will be the first time I've been able to say goodbye."

Freezing, Dean did his best to keep his expression smooth- not wanting to give anything away. He stopped breathing, waiting with a trepidation for the following words.

"In all the time we've known each other, every time we separated it had either been out of control or we've parted on… well, unfriendly terms. This time we're actually able to say goodbye."

He lost some of his iron control at Cas' words. He felt some of the pain, loss, and regret spill into his eyes and planes of his face. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Dean fumbled for something to say. He _needed _Cas to understand. Know that this wasn't goodbye. That it wasn't his fault. He felt sick to his stomach, kicking out his only friend in his most vulnerable and defeated moment. He felt like laughing- deep dark and humorlessly. He wanted to punch a wall, to punch himself. To do _something_. He wanted to reach across the tense wall between him and Cas and just hug him and promise that he wasn't going to leave him. That for once, he would be the one watching over. That he would be the one protecting.

"Cas that's not. This isn't goodbye. This is just a pit stop, ya? Once we sort out this whole rogue reaper/angel mess we can all meet up and chug Viagra and braid hair. We can still keep in contact- my numbers programmed into your phone."

The words were inadequate. They didn't get out anything he wanted to say. Half of it he knew Cas wouldn't even understand.

Cas nodded in understanding, though Dean knew he didn't. Something in his chest twisted harshly, knowing that Cas thought this was his fault. What made it hurt even worse was that he knew he couldn't say anything to let him know otherwise. He was stuck. And it hurt.

Not knowing what else to say, Dean jerkily nodded as well, a pained smile on his face. "Good."

When the bus came, Cas stood up resolutely, shouldering his bag. Dean got up to follow him, and together they walked to the bus.

"This isn't goodbye." Dean told him.

_You're sure doing a good job of making it look like one_

"I'll see you later."

_I have to_

Dean tightened his jaw and looked Cas in the eye, daring him to think different, trying to force him to understand.

With a tired half-smile, Cas took a deep breath. "I'll look forward to it."

Without giving either of them a chance to say anything else, Cas turned around and boarded the bus. Dean could see his figure through the windows, working his way towards the back.

"You boarding to, son?"

Looking back to the front, Dean saw the middle age man looking at him, holding the lever to close the door.

"Oh, no man. I uh- I can't."

"Humph. Seems like you're letting a good one go. Well, if you change your mind and decide to join your boyfriend, another bus pulls in in around an hour. Seems like you have a choice to make."

Before Dean could even be bothered to let him know that Cas was _not_ his boyfriend, the door closed in front of him. Backing up, Dean watched as the train pulled out into the street. He tried to catch a glimpse at Cas, to see him one last time. He looked through the passing windows to finally see a shot of dark hair firmly facing the opposite window. Away from Dean.

He was going to make this right- no matter how long it took.

Because Cas was worth it.

* * *

**Ok so maybe I cheated with saying Dean is back...  
**

**So get ready for time stamps people!**

**Super important question that I NEED you guys to answer: What are some key dates that you guys want me to write from Dean's perspective?**

**Read and Review!**

**~Magnolia**


	11. Strategy at it's Finest

**Hey! Timestamp #2 is up and running! **

**Non-betad: All mistakes are mine**

* * *

**Strategy at it's Finest**

* * *

Oh brother I can't, I can't get through  
I've been trying hard to reach you, cause I don't know what to do  
Oh brother I can't believe it's true  
I'm so scared about the future and I wanna talk to you  
Oh I wanna talk to you

Are you lost or incomplete?  
Do you feel like a puzzle, you can't find your missing piece?  
Tell me how do you feel?  
Well I feel like they're talking in a language I don't speak  
And they're talking it to me

* * *

**Day 3) Sam: Ready Subj. Dean: Pending  
**

Sam had lasted all of two days before he decided he had enough. Not only had he gotten a red-faced muttered reply to his simple inquiry as to, "Dean. Where is Cas?"but he had to put up with a whiny, grumpy, stubborn dick of a brother. He had come back to the bunker after disappearing before he had even woken up at around 11 nursing a bottle of jack that looked to be already halfway empty. Sam hoped most of that was due to being spilled all over himself or the floor; but this being Dean in question he knew he had downed it all himself.

Knowing he was walking on thin ice when Dean got like this, Sam cautiously phrased his question in his head. There was a science to it, to be sure. It couldn't sound too interested or pointed- as he was more likely to tell him to fuck off or back off and call it none of his business; but at the same time it couldn't sound too casual or flippant as he would just say that it's, "Nothing Sammy," and go to his room to sulk. Neither could he sound like he cared as the only thing that would get him was another girl/slumber party jibe and a closed door. To add to this, he only had one shot at asking the question because if he tried again he would be shut down again for being either a) too pushy b) too nosy c) too obnoxious or d) all of the above. No, there was no easy way to talk to Dean Winchester, and even after many high-exposer years he still hadn't mastered the delicate art.

Dean would argue that he didn't even have a bit of finesse.

Judging by how well he'd done in the past, he'd grudgingly agree

Deciding his best bet today was to go for a light tone + serious answer approach; Sam looked up from his laptop screen and looked at the man stumbling ever so slightly down the stairs.

_Great._

"Dean, where were you man, it's almost noon."

Jack in hand, Dean made his way over to the kitchen, studiously ignoring Sam's question.

_Attack somewhat effective, No response- but Subj. Dean has paused in the kitchen."_

He reached out for the cold plate of leftover eggs and bacon. The eggs Sam had tried to make were overcooked and spongy; and he was pretty sure he was supposed to put salt or cheese or something on them when he made them and the bacon was black or still flabby, no in-between. It hadn't been his fault, Dean had always been in charge of the cooking- they wouldn't have turned out that way if _Dean _has been around to make them…

Sam said as such to Dean- who barked out a laugh and took a huge bite of the eggs. Even drunk, the food appeared to be so bad that even Dean couldn't stomach it. He squinted his eyes and forced the wad of spongy paste down his throat, coughing ever so slightly when it finally settled in his stomach.

"Samantha you are forever banned from the kitchen. Your presence in here alone is likely to ruin everything. Stay away and don't come back. How I'm ever going to marry you off I have no idea."

_Food Super Effective: Subj. Deans' mood has been lifted by 10%_

_.._

_.. .._

_.. .._

_.._

_Counter attack! Subj. Dean used __Avoid__. Derailed conversation by 45%_

Sighing, Sam tried again, knowing that he might have missed his only opportunity. "Dean, you were out for a while, you could have at least offered to pick up some of the stuff we need for the next couple of weeks."

"Ya well", Dean answered gruffly, "If sleeping beauty had decided to get her delicate ass out of bed…"

"Dude! … Disney?"

The words were barely out of his mouth when he was already biting back a groan, trying to steal the words back into his mouth. _Again_ he fell into their normal routine- avoid until escape was in sight and then get the hell out of dodge. Sam had forgotten how well Dean was at this game.

_Subj. Dean power level 90% User. Sam power level critical 45%_

Scrounging for something to salvage the conversation, Sam made a last ditch effort to get Dean to talk.

"Come on dude. What skeevy business could you be doing this early in the morning?"

_A+ Sam. Joke. He can't avoid answering now_

Dean squared his shoulders and set his jaw before shoveling the rest of the disgusting eggs into his mouth, quickly making his way through the rest of the plate.

_Danger Warning Critical! Subj. Dean used: Closed Off. Chance for Mission Success: 17%_

Deflating, Sam decided to let it go- knowing it was a lost cause. Either Dean would tell him in 10 years when it escalated, when he was hammered, or when he was asleep. He decided to change the topic, knowing that keeping Dean from going into some corner of the bunker in his current state with any amount of alcohol in his possession was not going to end in the rest of the day or the next few being even slightly bearable. Lucky for him- a perfectly good topic transition-er was not only here- but lying blissfully asleep upstairs.

_Perfect_

"Heh. Wanna go check on Cas, man? I knew he found the beds comfortable judging by the way he wouldn't stop going on about them yesterday, but I think it's time we drag him out of bed. There's a lot we need to talk about. Though if he's still asleep you might want to let him just stay in bed, judging by what must have been a really awful couple of weeks for him. The man has earned a couple hours of shut eye."

Apparently that was not the right thing to say. An inscrutable expression tore over Dean's features, and in-between one blink and the next he was storming passed him, all hard lines and oozing _DO NOT TALK TO ME._

_ Subj. Dean left the arena. Mission Failed. _

Breathing out heavily, Sam leaned back in his chair; wincing slightly when he heard the door slam down the hall. Sam new perusing it was pointless- and that was one of the most aggravating things he could think of. He thought they were finally past this; the secret keeping. Whenever things went bad it was almost always, without fail, due to poor communication. You would think they would realize this and adapt; but instead they recognize this fact and continue as always. It didn't make any sense, and Sam was just tired of all the closed doors.

Maybe he would get it out of Dean tomorrow.

Sam went into the kitchen and pulled out a beer.

Why not? It was probably 5 o'clock somewhere.

* * *

**So how you guys feel about a little Sam? :D**

**Hope your week has gone better then mine. School started up again on Tuesday and I'm already about to cry/pass out from stress :/**

**Anything else you guys want to see? - As of now I only have one other timestamp planned, and I'd rather have them all grouped together; so if you have any ideas, let me know! :)**

**Read x Review!**

**~Magnolia**


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